


Smoke and Mirrors

by votiveviscera



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Circus, Alternate Universe - Victorian, F/M, Fluff, Knife Throwing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 03:55:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10913829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/votiveviscera/pseuds/votiveviscera
Summary: Set in a circus travelling a Victorian Thedas. Zevran is a renowned, talented knife thrower, Tabris his fearless assistant. But there is more behind their act, hidden from the audience.(A Victorian circus AU of my favourite romance from Dragon Age Origins. This may become a longer fic in future)





	Smoke and Mirrors

There’s a thud as a knife embeds itself in the wood behind Tabris, followed by the cheer of the audience. She’s done this performance so many times now but each time it leaves her breathless. The hush that spreads through the crowd as he prepares the knife, the metal glinting in the flickering tapers round the tent. The drumroll and slow pull of a bow across violin strings. The second long eye contact they always hold before he moves into his throwing stance. The gasps from their corseted guests. The moment he lets go out of the blade and she plays the scared victim. 

She knows, he knows, every person in their circus knows he would never hurt her. She trusts him completely, as he trusts her. What matters is that the audience doesn’t know, she plays the fear well, Zevran plays the ruthless Antivan better. Tabris knows when to turn her head, when to spread her legs so the knife can land square between them. They know what to wear to look exotic to their paying guests, sitting uncomfortably in their finery. The ladies in their bustles and the gentlemen in starched collars. They know how to play it so it looks new each time, keep the audience cheering, keep the money coming.

What the audience will never know is the masterful Antivan Crow would never hurt her, could never hurt her. Unless she asked for it. They don’t see how he always manages to slip her a kiss as he retrieves his blades, pressing his lips to her shoulder, her wrist, her thigh secretly. This moment is not for the onlookers but for her, for him. A wordless way of confirming she is okay, that he can continue. They don’t know that they are more than master and assistant.

However when the audience is gone and they are allowed their privacy, the truth comes out. His leather waistcoat slides from tanned shoulders to land in the sawdust and her sequined corset comes next. By this point, Tabris is no longer surprised when Zevran cuts her free. She drags her fingers through his dark blond hair, pressing her lips to the slim black lines that curve round his eye and tracing them with her tongue. A soft moan comes from him as he walks them backwards towards their small bed, draped in fabric, covered in cushions, made theirs as best they can. 

Tabris sinks into his lap as he sits down, looking up at her like a man at worship. His warm hands slide their way up her thighs. They easily leave goosebumps in their wake on their journey into her smalls to cup her backside, bringing her closer to him. It’s her turn to moan, his grip making her roll her hips forward, letting her rub herself against him.  
The way he makes her feel brings her higher than any aerial artist, her skin heating under his fingers and his lips. Tabris fists her hands in his hair so she can pull his head back, letting her see the unadulterated adoration on Zevran’s face. This is hers and hers alone. The soft, open, wanting look in his eyes, and the desperate way his mouth hangs open. If the audience saw this, the illusion they paint so perfectly would be broken. They would see how completely their heartless and bloodthirsty assassin loves her - and Maker how she loves him. Loves the reverent way his calloused hands touch her, the glowing, passion filled amber of his eyes, and the way he feels as he rocks inside her. Each kiss is sweet, consuming and leaves her breathless. He’s always left her breathless.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you'd like to see this as a complete multi-chapter story!


End file.
